The Swing

A poem for the seasons

A bit of rope

hoists dry wood,

an ark to sail through the seasons.

 

 

Dry plank kissed with snow,

you sit quietly awaiting the spring

when children will find you

and laughter abounds.

Until then, sit in the silver silence

of dusted snow,

wind caressing your gnarled wood

as you watch over wood pile beneath you.

 

 

Dizzying, the canopy of leaves sways above

as toes touch sky

leaving the ground

far below.

Sun glints off leaves

and filters the new breath of spring’s promise

as grubs burrow deeply

confessing dark secrets to succulent earth.

 

Wood warms to the syrup of summer sun

twisting through shady pine

the still air weighty in  

somnolent afternoon.

Pine needles blanket the scuff

where small feet have

leapt from earth,

trading fear for the promise of freedom .

 

Cold air bites and nips

as it pulls leaves desultorily

to ground around you.

Days shorten.

Wind sharpens.

Few attempt flight now.

 

A bit of rope

hoists dry wood,

an ark to sail through the seasons.

copyright/All rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2012

Reviews

[Jasmine Thousand]

This is a symbolic piece, I agree. There seem to be memories woven into each and every word.

~*Jasmine Thousand~*

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

I have goosebumps from this. So precious, perfect, and sweet.

[Muse]

Some of my favorite child hood memories are from swinging on an old wooden swing. The swing is symbolic of so many wonderful things....time...and youth. When swinging high...eyes closed...it's the next best thing to flying. Great poem.

High scores,

Muse

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

This poem made me feel as if I was being cradled and rocked in the arms of sweet Mother Nature. I loved the sights, sounds and smells of her beauty as they ran through my imagination.

[Robin]

a poem in rhythm with the heart of nature , sensate phrasing that lets us drift away

[❀ Gabriela ..]

Beautiful!! I love the picture that this poems paints, so beautiful and nostalgic. Excellent job!

[KATHY SUE SILLS]

Love this! Made me feel free as I sailed high above the ground in a swing watching each season flow by! Fourth stanza is my favorite!

[Ed Hart]

you have such a wonderful smooth finish to your words...always a pleasure to read whatever thought comes tumbling through your heart

[emmajoy]

'A bit of rope ~ hoists dry wood, an ark to sail through the seasons' - a lovely ending to a great piece of writing! You've truly captured the spirit of the swing and what it represents; there are so many wonderful phrases here, Audrey .. letter-threaded magic,

'Until then, sit in the silver silence ~ of dusted snow,'

'Wood warms to the syrup of summer sun ~ twisting through shady pine'

[WhiteWillow]

Beautiful prose, wonderfully written. Welcome back!